


Trial and Error

by Deastar



Series: They Say Love Heals All Wounds [13]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deastar/pseuds/Deastar
Summary: After the first time, Sid knows he likes fucking Geno, and Geno likes it, too. But there's a lot more to learn about what, specifically, they both like. Fortunately, they've got a lot of horizontal surfaces to try out. (And vertical surfaces. And automobiles. And furniture. And...)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This picks up right after Eights and Sevens, but I think it stands alone just fine. I hope you enjoy these little scenes of Sid and Geno "getting best later," as Geno promised!

1.

The next night, they do get around to Geno’s plan – kisses upon kisses, and then, when Sid feels like he’s coming apart, Geno asks, “How you want me, Sid?” His voice is low and dark, no question about what he means.

“I—you…” Sid manages, individual words a struggle and complete sentences an impossibility.

Geno takes his hands out of Sid’s pants and sets them along Sid’s sides instead – a gentling touch, bringing Sid back to himself. With some part of his brainpower thus restored, Sid gets out a full coherent thought: “I got to pick last time,” he points out, “so this time, you should pick. How do you want it, G?”

Geno hums, thoughtful. “Side?” he proposes. “Like spoon.”

“Awesome,” Sid says.

And it is. Geno always feels so good in Sid’s arms, and when he’s having trouble keeping his thigh pulled up against his chest, Sid gets to help… which is another way of saying, Sid gets to come with the smooth underside of Geno’s thigh cupped in his hand, lean and shivering, a perfect fit for the curve of Sid’s fingers and his palm.

Plus, it means Sid’s already in the perfect position for cuddling Geno the way he wants to be cuddled after getting fucked, although Sid won’t figure out until later that that’s a permanent preference, not just a “this is new” thing.

So Sid’s a pretty big fan of that.

 

2.

The thing is, Geno’s not ever really lukewarm about sex. There have been a couple of times when Sid was up for it but Geno wasn’t, and that was easy: they just didn’t have sex. But when they _do_ have sex, Geno is all in, every time. And Sid loves that. But it turns out, contrary to Sid’s expectations, that it’s possible to have sex with _too much_ enthusiasm.

So the first time Geno tries riding Sid, he’s bouncing along on Sid’s dick, thighs pistoning at top speed, swearing and sweating and generally driving Sid completely crazy, and then suddenly—

Sid yelps, Geno winces, and Sid’s dick smacks his stomach, because it’s, y’know… not inside of Geno anymore. Because Geno was bouncing so high that he lifted right off of Sid’s dick.

Poor Geno looks absolutely mortified, and Sid’s heart goes out to him.

“Hey, hey,” he says gently, reaching for Geno’s arms, “no worries, it’s okay. No big deal, okay, G?”

Geno nods, a little tentatively, and mumbles, “Okay, but… sorry, Sid.” Then he looks down at Sid’s erection and says, with perfect seriousness, “Sorry, Sid-dick.”

Sid bites his lip and tries not to laugh. “You want to try again, or…”

“Yes,” Geno says, with determination.

They get back to where they left off—Geno pistoning away, grunting and bouncing and using all the power is his long thighs—and then…

It happens again.

“I’m worst,” Geno moans into his palms, slumped over Sid’s torso.

“You are not worst,” Sid says firmly. “Here, hand me those pillows.”

Geno does, but he still looks utterly tragic, and he grumbles, “Don’t see how pillows is fix—”

Sid stacks the pillows behind himself, so he’s half sitting-up. “Here’s my plan,” he announces. “We’re going to try again, and this time, I’m going to kiss you, over and over and over again.”

Geno looks doubtful. “Kissing is good,” he allows. “But how is fix?”

Sid beckons him closer, until he’s straddling Sid’s hips again, then coaxes him down until his mouth is just a breath away from Sid’s. “It’ll keep you close,” Sid murmurs. “At least, I think that’s how it’ll work. If you stay this close, close enough to kiss, then that’ll keep the rest of you close, too, so you won’t go bouncing off. Yeah?”

Geno purses his lips for a second, giving the matter some thought, then smiles. “Pretty smart, Sid.”

“I try,” Sid says, blushing a little. “Plus, hard to go wrong with more kissing, right?”

“Is true,” Geno says contentedly.

In the end, Sid’s guiding hands on Geno’s hips probably play a bigger role in preventing any further dick-related disasters than the kisses do. But the kisses are pretty great, too, especially since their height difference makes kissing kind of uncomfortable in all the other positions they’ve tried.

“Kiss plan good, good,” Geno mumbles afterward, patting Sid’s thigh on his way down into sleep. “All Sid plans good.”

And yeah, Geno’s mostly unconscious, but—well. Sid thinks he can be forgiven if the words make him feel a little taller.

 

3.

Sid still maintains that, as a theoretical matter, fucking in the shower _should_ be amazing. But practically, it’s not a winner. Their height difference is significant enough that Sid has to go up on his tiptoes and Geno has to splay out his legs pretty far to make it really good… and neither tiptoes nor trying to balance on splayed-out feet are a good idea when the floor is wet and slippery and you’re _extremely_ distracted. And after a couple of near-wipeouts, the whole thing stops feeling sexy and starts feeling stupid.

“It sucks,” Sid grumps afterward, mashing his head fiercely into the pillow; he’s pretty sure Geno is laughing at him silently. “It sucks because it should totally be great, because shower sex is great, and the shower is the best place for rimming you, so I could rim you and _then_ fuck you, but no.”

Sid can’t feel stuff like this through the bond, but he would swear, he would _swear_ that Geno is rolling his eyes at Sid. “So you rim me in shower, and then fuck me on bathroom floor,” he says matter-of-factly. “Easy.”

“It’s not the same,” Sid mutters, aware that he’s probably being ridiculous, and also aware that he and Geno had pretty great sex tonight even after they called off the shower thing, which only prove that Geno is right.

Geno sighs, and wiggles back closer against Sid’s chest. “My Sid: always want perfect. And is good for hockey. But sex is not for perfect, Sid – is just for be close, have fun, feel good. Try for make sex perfect is just pressure and make stress. So don’t worry, okay, Sid?”

Sid smiles, a little against his will. He sees the sense in what Geno’s saying, and he can see the danger, too, in applying his relentless drive for perfection to their sex life. He never wants to make Geno feel that Sid is expecting him to _perform_ , rather than hoping to share something with him. “Okay,” he says softly, nuzzling the back of Geno’s neck. “Okay. But we’re gonna have to get a bigger bathmat.”

At that, Geno laughs out loud.

  

4.

Sid wakes up at the feeling of Geno nudging his side.

“Wh’t,” Sid grumbles.

The nudging continues.

“What th’hell?” Sid moans, unwillingly opening his eyelids just the tiniest bit.

Geno is determinedly trying to slide his arm under Sid’s chest, his knee under Sid’s thighs, and his hip under Sid’s hip.

Sid squints at him in confusion. “Geno. What.”

“I’m try to get under you,” Geno says, before poking the tip of his tongue out of his mouth in concentration and getting back to his task.

“I see that,” Sid replies with as much patience as is possible for someone who hasn’t had any coffee yet. “Can I ask why?”

Geno shrugs. “Feel nice.”

Sid absorbs that. Then, with a mighty effort of willpower, because he loves Geno so very much, he heaves himself up on his elbows and knees, and Geno slides under his body face-down, quick as a rabbit.

Once he’s there, Geno lets out a luxurious sigh and appeals, “Down now, Sid, yes?”

Sid obligingly lowers himself onto Geno’s back, warning, “You’re going to feel like I’m crushing you.”

“No,” Geno announces. When most of Sid’s weight is resting on top of him, he starts wiggling his ass against Sid’s morning wood, mumbling, “Nice, nice, nice.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what you’re after,” Sid says, amused. “You could have just asked, you know, instead of jabbing me with your elbow.”

“Sid, if I wake you up and say, ‘want sex,’ then you grumpy,” Geno points out, not inaccurately.

“I’m like, fifty percent grumpy _now_ ,” Sid says.

Geno says winningly, “You fuck me, make zero percent grumpy!”

“If I fuck you, I’ll just be rewarding you for jabbing me awake,” Sid counters, raising an eyebrow even though Geno can’t see it.

Geno makes a rude noise. “So funny you talk like you not fuck me. I know you, Sid,” he says, smug and affectionate all at once. “You easy, easy, easy.”

Sid draws in a breath, ready for a retort—and then he lets it out in a laugh, because hey, it’s true. And there’s no point pretending it’s not. “I am,” he admits, without shame. “I’m totally easy for you. Okay, you want it like this?”

“Mhmm.” Geno slides one leg up underneath himself and to the side.

“Sounds good.” _And when we’re done_ , Sid thinks, with exasperated fondness, _you can go be ungodly perky in the shower, and I can go back to sleep_ , knowing even as he thinks it that he won’t have the heart to make Geno shower alone. _Easy_ , he thinks to himself, ruefully, but that’s how he likes it.

 

5.

An incomplete list of stuff Sid has tried bending Geno over:

 

The side of the bed, too high for Sid to comfortably be able to jerk Geno off while they’re fucking – not a winner.

The kitchen table, even though Sid really does have a policy against sex in the kitchen – the problem is, he told Geno about the policy, and now Geno gets off on tempting Sid into breaking it.

The back of the sofa, which is where Sid fucks Geno so hard that he accidentally tips them both right over the back of the sofa and onto the cushions, after which they’re both laughing too hard to keep going.

The coffee table, with Geno on his knees, which is pretty much the ideal height, but which always makes Sid nervous, because of the glass.

The ottoman, which is also a pretty great height when Geno’s on his knees, but which slides across the floor too easily.

The hood of Sid’s car, because even though Geno _really_ wanted Sid to bend him over his _own_ car, Geno’s dinky little luxury cars are just too damn short to make that work.

The weight bench in their home gym, which becomes a standby – Sid tells himself that fucking is a totally legit cool-down activity, but sometimes, when they really get going, he needs a cool-down from the cool-down.

The desk in their home office – never again, cracked the plaster on the wall.

The bathroom counter, which finally solves the major downside of fucking Geno from behind, because the mirror over the sink means that Sid can finally, finally, _see_ him – the parting of his lips, the flush racing down his chest, the flex of his arms as he absorbs Sid’s thrusts— _God damn_ , Sid thinks, before his brain stops being able to make words. Sid’s favorite, hands-down, and when it’s over, his legs are too wobbly to make it into the bedroom before getting horizontal. _Thank god we got that bigger bathmat_ , Sid thinks, dazed.

 

6.

Sid is mortified, later, to realize that, up until this point, every time he fucked Geno, he’d always come first, and Geno second. “I may not have a lot of experience,” he tells Geno, muffled because he’s buried his bright-red face in the sheets, “but even I know that’s not cool. God, I’m such an idiot.”

But Geno just laughs and says, “Come on, Sid; is not big deal. Because bond, mostly we come almost same time anyway. And now it’s not so much new for both—less overwhelm for you, less nervous for me—now _I_ come first.” He pats Sid on the head and follows it up with a kiss to the back of Sid’s neck. “So drama,” he says fondly.

“Hey!” Sid twists to glare up at Geno, but Geno just laughs at him again, and it turns out, actually, that it’s all just fine.

But the reason Sid _knows_ that he’s always come first before, the thing that triggers that realization, happens the night before, when the pattern breaks for the first time. Geno comes around Sid’s cock—unbelievable, gorgeous—and it only makes Sid hotter, makes him thrust harder, fired up—

But Geno doesn’t like it. Grunting a little, his eyebrows drawing together, he tells Sid to stop.

Sid goes still immediately, of course, feeling like someone’s poured a bucket of ice water down his back. “I’m sorry, Geno, I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” Geno whispers, petting Sid’s hair. “Just—don’t move, yes?”

Sid does his best to hold still while Geno squirms a little on his dick, making a series of faces before eventually concluding, in an apologetic tone, “Sorry, Sid, is not feel good. You… out?”

“Yeah, sure, I—” After Sid pulls out, he takes a shaky breath and asks, “Geno, did I… did I hurt—”

But Geno shakes his head, and says firmly. “No. Is just… after I come, is too much feeling for be good. Like you try to jerk me off after I come, but, um… inside.”

 _Huh_ , Sid thinks, relieved and also kind of… fascinated. That’s not how Sid’s own body works—when Sid masturbated with dildos, he could fuck himself through one orgasm and into another one and enjoy every minute—but he knows not every guy is built that way.

“It sucks you had to find out like this,” he offers, wrapping his arms around Geno for a comforting hug, “but now we know, and I won’t do it again, okay?”

“Yes.” Geno nods, then squints up at Sid. “When we start having sex,” he says, thoughtful, “if I say I don’t like something you do with sex, you freak out a lot, feel most guilty, all this. But tonight, you not.” He sounds… proud, Sid realizes, which makes Sid feel warm down to the bottoms of his feet.

“I guess I’m learning,” he tells Geno, unable to suppress a smile.

And yeah, in the morning, Sid does the math and realizes about the “always the first to come” thing, and yeah, he has a small freak-out about _that_ , but, like… only for a few minutes. That’s progress, he thinks. He _is_ learning. And he’s a little proud of that, too.


End file.
